What were you doing on the morning of September 11, 2001?

The ten year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks has brought back a lot of sad memories for Americans. In one of my classes, the professor asked what we were doing when we heard the news. She found that most of the students were in their elementary school classrooms and libraries at the time of the attacks. Being about ten years senior to the average AU student, I was surprised at the detail of the accounts and how observant these young students had been of other people's suffering.

Like everyone else in the class, I remember that morning, but I wouldn't volunteer the information because I was embarrassed how askew my priorities were. I was practicing for my guitar lesson and debating with myself whether or not I should skip class on account of it being my 21st birthday. I attended the community college around the corner from my family's home in Florida. So in my room I sat, fantasizing about my first legal dose of drunken debauchery, when the phone rang.

It didn't matter what channel I tried, they all showed the same images of a shattered, upended New York City. It looked as though someone had poured ash into a snow globe and then put it in the spin cycle.

For the rest of that day, amidst the chaos and frantic phone calls to track down loved ones, I scorned my own self pity. I couldn't believe that I had the nerve to think about ruined party plans when so many were far less fortunate. I realize now that this was merely a method for coping with something I couldn't change. My own brother was supposed to fly home that morning from England and we hadn't heard from him. My entire family was a wreck with worry. This was a fear shared by thousands, maybe millions of other people.

I'm reminded of 9/11 every time some good sport at a cash register asks me for my ID, but I can't ever seem to think of an intelligent response to their commiserations. “Yeah, it was pretty terrible,” somehow doesn't feel appropriate. Regardless of the time that passes, I doubt I'll ever find the right words. I don't think there are any.

There have been many different tributes to the victims of the 9/11. From moments of silence and documentaries, to sending flags into space, we try to hold on to this spirit of national unity. While it's one of the darkest days in American history, it still seems to inspire us to be better people.

Alfred University's Drawn to Diversity club placed two replica towers in front of Powell Campus Center last Monday as a memorial to the victims of September 11. Each day the towers were moved to a different building until they finished in front of Miller Performing Arts Center. The tall, black structures stood out like shadows against the cheerful, green campus.

Melissa Roginski, AU senior and student coordinator for the 9-11 project, commented on the memorial; “By creating this project closer to home, we hope to represent the multitude of connections between our community and the victims.”

I think Roginski and Drawn to Diversity have the right idea. At first, I saw the replicas as ominous reminders of a very sad day. I didn't feel that I had any claim to this sadness, because I hadn't lost anyone personally and, wish as I might, I'm not from New York. When I approached the structures on Friday afternoon to hang my chain on the wall, I realized that they were a connection for all of the survivors of 9/11, including me.